


Bigger on the Inside

by moon_opals



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, It is a DW reference, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 21:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15033728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_opals/pseuds/moon_opals
Summary: Huey, Dewey, and Louie find out why Scrooge's hat is so big. It's full of secrets.





	Bigger on the Inside

As far as exhaustion went, this was the most euphoric exhaustion he’d felt in the odd twenty-five years. Almost too comfortable in his chair, a dangerous thing for a busy man like himself, Scrooge commanded his bones to oblige his internal instructions. He made it behind his desk despite the depleted strain, but rather than sitting at the chair, he went down on his knee to the lowest compartment his desk had to offer.

He rummaged through the forgotten items he’d interred over the years. Failing to find what he sought, he scratched his head, standing with a confused look on his face. He knew he’d left it there. It was the summer of 1990, and he’d gone in search for the Allhound Diamond rumored to displaced in South Africa. Shaking his head, he opened all of the remaining compartments, grumbling about disorganization and needing Beakley to go through his personal items, as if she was his secretary.

Snapping the last compartment shut, Scrooge scowled. He’d find it later. For now, he was in great need for a money bath. His aching bones rattled every which way he went. He grabbed his hat and left the office, musing over which coins he’d use for his bath this time. He marched upstairs, hearing the distant echoes of children chants, and didn’t realize his loose, sweaty grip had failed him. His top hat fell quietly down the stairs, rolling until it ended at the foyer.

“Oh, what is this?” Scrooge paused at the top of the stairs. Heart skipping his a beat, he backtracked his steps until he was in the foyer, and his scowl deepened at what he saw.

“Jeeze, his hat is larger on the inside,” Dewey’s hand, then arm, then upper shoulder down the black abyss that was the internal components of Scrooge’s hat, “see, I told you this is how he keeps all the extra cool, secret stuff.”

“Lets just give it back to him.” Huey suggested, bending down to pick up what had fallen out during the descent. He flipped the photograph, letting out a tiny little gasp, “Oh my,” he chuckled, “what is this?”

Louie and Dewey huddled around him, sharing similar gasps, and they cooed before breaking out their tiny, contemplating grins, “It’s Goldie O’Gilt!”

Huey’s eyes narrowed, “It’s dated 1990 South Africa.” He flipped the photograph back, staring at the figures on the faded photograph, “There’s Uncle Scrooge. There’s Goldie,” his finger hovered above a third figure perched on Scrooge’s back.

Dewey tugged the phone, “Who’s the little girl?”

“I don’t know!”

“It says Goldie, Scrooge, and Opal, age 12 -,”

“Ae’ll take it back, ye wee, noisy numpties!” Appearing before them, he snatched his hat and photograph, glaring down at their unrepentant expressions, “Ae told ye’ ta’ mind ye own noses!”

The three of them jumped back in surprise.

“Uncle Scrooge, was that -,”

“Go along, the lot of ye.” Scrooge stuffed the photograph back into his hat, far deeper than he intended, “Ae’ll be takin’ me bath. Goodness know Ae need it.”

Unable to say anything, the three of them nodded and left the foyer, Huey looking back at him one last time with an expression Scrooge marked as pitiful confusion.

His scowled remained until they were out of sight. His shoulders sagged, and he removed his hat, to find the photograph once again. He thumbed over Goldie’s ever youthful face, feeling his thumb begin to outline the sharp outline of her younger imitation. His lips trembled. A burning sensation pricked at his eyes, and he shook his head, returning the photo with less anger than he did several moments ago.

He marched upstairs, letting the weariness of the day assault his aching bones. His firm grip held the stairs railing, and he envisioned the comfort his waiting tub offered.

“Better times, lads." He sighed, "Better times.

**Author's Note:**

> Scrooge and Goldie would make for less than great parents. I find that beautiful.


End file.
